


Purple

by sea_of_eternity



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Cervical Penetration, Multiple Penetration, Oral Sex, Other, Oviposition, Tentacle Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_of_eternity/pseuds/sea_of_eternity
Summary: Lab security takes time to perfect.





	Purple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ba_lailah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ba_lailah/gifts).

Dr. Eliza Agon — and she _is_ still a doctor, whether her certifications have been stripped from her or not — tries to focus on her work, but it's hard. Her libedo has always been high, and recent events haven't helped. 

She shifts awkwardly on her chair, supporting her heavy stomach with one hand, and bites back a moan as her movement causes the eggs inside her to press against sensitive spots. 

It causes other things to press against sensitive spots, too. The tentacle that's been locked in her cunt for weeks now stirs, and Eliza gasps as it begins to withdraw a bit. Even as the rest of the tentacle withdraws almost completely, the thick ridge of muscle that had been forced inside her and settled right inside her entrance, that keeps her tethered to it, doesn't move an inch. 

For long minutes Eliza can do nothing but grip the edge of her desk and press her thighs together as the tentacle fills her with a thick, hot fluid. Her nipples are already desperately hard. Eliza _knows _that the fluid she's being filled with is an aphrodisiac, but that doesn't stop her body from reacting. She rolls her hips, trying to encourage the tentacle to fuck her already. 

It doesn't work, of course. The only reaction she gets is a sudden, sharp jerk on her cunt, one that makes her lose her grip on the desk and spins her chair around to face her greatest creation. 

Her greatest failure. 

When it's resting, it looks like nothing more threatening than a decorative, thick bush of vines. It's designed to lull intruders into complacency, to make them let their guard down and step into its reach. Once they did, it would immobilize the intruder by locking its tentacles into an orifice and holding the intruder until she came to release them — _if_ she came to release them — and in the meantime use them to breed more defenses for her lab. 

Eliza had specifically designed it for that. She'd _known_ it. And yet — she'd stepped into reach before she'd programmed herself as someone for it to ignore, or even programmed a way to release its prisoners. 

Another jerk on her cunt rolls her chair closer, where the rest of its tentacles are reaching for her. She reluctantly unbuttons her labcoat before it can be torn off _again_. The tentacles wrap themselves around her arms and legs, yanking her out of the chair. Eliza grasps two of the tentacles, jerking them off like she would a human cock. It does nothing, because her creation has only a few tentacles designed for sex and one of them is already in her cunt, but the act of it is enough to get it to finally _move_. 

Her mouth falls open as the tentacle in her cunt thrusts in, and rather than a jolt of pain when the tip of it hits her cervix, it's pleasure. Her moan gets strangled when a tentacle thrusts into her mouth and starts filling her throat with the same aphrodisiac that her cunt had been filled with. More tentacles starts rubbing against her asshole, covering her with spurts of lubricant as they try to work their way in. 

There's a slight tinge of discomfort as the tentacle shoves through her cervix into her womb, but the feeling of it shoving even deeper into her body, shoving its own eggs out of the way as it works to bottom out inside of her is amazing. At the same time, one tentacle finally forces its way into her ass, and Eliza shudders her way through a sudden climax. 

She loses track of time, of how many tentacles manage to force their way into her mouth and ass. The only thing that she's always completely aware of is the slow, steady thrust of the single tentacle in her cunt. With every stroke, it withdraws completely from her cunt until only the ridge that locks her to the tentacle remains inside her, and then slowly fills her again. 

Please, she thinks at it, as she swallows around the tentacles fucking her throat. She rolls her hips and clenches her cunt and ass around it, trying to encourage it to stop teasing her and give her what she wants. 

It doesn't, of course. It continues at the same slow pace until it buries itself in her and stills. Eliza groans around the tentacles as eggs slowly travel into her cunt. They’re relatively small, but they still more than double the width of the tentacle inside her. Having them forced into her womb isn’t as good as a hard, fast fucking would be, but it’s still enough to make her come again. As always, it's a pale ghost of the orgasm she knows that she _could_ have, but she's never let that stop her from enjoying what she gets. She rests her hands on her stomach as it grows with each new egg laid in her — far less eggs than she would like — and waits as the tentacles gradually withdraw. Eventually only the one in her cunt remains, and Eliza pushes herself to her feet. 

Catching the gaze of one of her assistants, she gestures down at the mess on the floor. “Clean this up,” she says, and grabs the cart that her creation rests on. She ignores the whispering that begins as she leaves the room, already thinking of the alterations she’ll have to make when she gets the chance. More responsive, of course. More vigorous. 

And of course, able to produce far more eggs. 


End file.
